


Lasers on Stun

by captainshakespear, deanisthesun (become_normal)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hate to Love, M/M, Office Romance, apparently that's a thing now, laser tag au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3534401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainshakespear/pseuds/captainshakespear, https://archiveofourown.org/users/become_normal/pseuds/deanisthesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Dean’s torn between objecting angrily and grinning evilly. “You here to start a fight buddy?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I was under the impression we’re here to ‘strengthen inter-departmental relations’,” he says vaguely, before fixing Dean with a piercing blue glare and dropping his voice to a tone which is not fair-play at all.  “But I will gladly accept your offer of combat.”'</i>
</p><p> Or; the one where Dean and Cas play laser tag and fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lasers on Stun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clockworkrobots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkrobots/gifts).



> A very happy birthday to [Anna](http://dirtyovercoats.com)/[clockworkrobots](http://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkrobots)!!! This was inspired by her saying that she wanted to do something that could be a DeanCas AU for her birthday. So we went to play laser tag. And then we wrote a DeanCas AU of that. (also on [tumblr](http://captainshakespear.tumblr.com/post/113612455724).)
> 
> Thanks to [Bridget](http://introspectivewingtips.tumblr.com) for the [beautiful art](http://introspectivewingtips.tumblr.com/post/113612144963/)!!!

“We work for the greatest company ever.” Charlie says, for what is probably the sixth time now, as the two of them stare up at the enormous neon sign spelling out LASER-QUEST. The tiny red-head is practically bouncing on the spot in her pale blue ‘LLAP’  t-shirt and casual jeans.

Dean glances around the large, brightly coloured room. He can easily pick out his middle-aged coworkers amongst the eight-year old birthday party attendees and early twenty dude-bros hanging amongst them. Their obvious out-of-placeness is his tip-off that they’re here for the same reason, as well as the general air to them of not having a good time.

In addition to whoever’s fantastic idea it was to have a work function at Laser Quest had come the equally terrible idea to make it an inter-departmental event. Charlie, who’s from IT, is the only person he recognizes here.

“Yeah, Charlie, heard you the first six times.” he says. Dean gets a hard poke in the side for his clipped tone.

“Cmon, lighten up old man. There’s no way you don’t love shit like this.”

“I do!” Dean exclaims. There’s no way you can’t love laser tag. He’d just love it a little more if some of his friends were here.

“I get it, you miss your squad.” Charlie sighs. “But cheer up, get pumped, and you can compare scores with Benny and Jo when you see ‘em tomorrow.”

Dean doesn’t get a chance to respond before there’s an acne-faced neck-bearded employee ushering him and his coworkers into the ready room. The room is low-lit with UV lights that make his and Charlie’s bright shirts pop. He looks around and sees that most people got the memo about wearing light coloured clothing, but a couple people didn’t. There’s even one guy wearing a goddamn sweater.

“Alright everybody, my name is Nate and I’m gonna be explaining you the rules today.” the employee says in a nasally voice. “Is everybody excited?!” Charlie whoops and a couple people grumble, but the kid just plows on. “Alright! So the first rule of Laser Quest is HAVE FUN.”

Charlie looks up at him, rolls her eyes, and mumbles, “I’d easily believe this is one of those guys that doxxed me on reddit last week.” Dean stifles a laugh and gets a side-eyed glance from argyle sweater guy for it. He shuts up after that, and pretty much tunes out. Dean knows the drill, he’s done this before.

Finally the rules are read and he’s being handed a heavy light-up vest and large ray gun. Now _this_ is what he’s here for. He throws the vest over his shoulders easily and fiddles with the placement of his gun holster for a moment but quickly settles it into a comfortable position.

Just as he does up the last buckle of his vest, Dean spots sweater guy struggling with his armour.  Reminding himself that he’s supposed to be making friends anyways, he takes a breath and walks over, tapping the man on the shoulder. “Hey man, need a hand with those straps?”

The man turns around abruptly, dislodging his crooked vest even further, and catches Dean’s eyes, which. Okay, clearly the dark light is doing something funny to Dean’s colour perception, because no way are this guy’s eyes _that_ blue.

There’s also no way this guy is actually that hot, but hey, maybe that’s the UVs too.

“No, I can--um,” he protests, then looks down at the contraption of flashing lights, sitting crooked and probably backwards on his torso.  He smiles sheepishly.  “Perhaps.  If you wouldn’t mind?”

Dean realizes he’s staring and quickly shakes his head to pull himself together. “Nah, not at all. I’ve done this before, helping out the newbies is no problem.”

“I’ve never had the occasion to play laser tag before, but I imagine it can’t be terribly difficult,” the guy says, trying to stand as still as possible as Dean settles the vest correctly on his shoulders, and goes about clipping each of the buckles together at his sides.  He tries to keep his hands from brushing against the knit sweater, warm from probably warmer skin underneath.  “Much as this vest seems to be trying to prove me wrong already …”

Dean shrugs. “Well, it ain’t too complicated, just point and shoot and …” He fumbles, trying to sound encouraging but also cool and experienced and blasé. Very achievable goals.  “... y’know, give it your best shot,” he finishes teasingly, tightening up the last strap and clapping the guy on the shoulder with a smile.

It’s returned with a serious frown. “I intend to,” the man says with absolute conviction.

Dean raises an eyebrow, surprised at the amount of attitude coming from a guy who literally wore an argyle sweater to a laser tag event.  

“Those are fighting words, uh …” He leans probably too far into the guy’s personal space, trying to get a peek at the codename displayed on his laser gun.  “... CASTIEL. Is that a reference to something?”

“No, it’s my name,” the guy— _Castiel_ , apparently—deadpans, squinting at Dean as though that was a very stupid question.

Dean makes a face in return.  “Dude, you couldn’t think of anything better than your name?”

Cas sounds affronted, and replies defensively, “I like my name.”

“You’re supposed to pick something cool, or badass, or both!  You’ve got the world at your fingertips … or, I guess, ten characters, but still!”

“And clearly your codename exemplifies those traits … IMPALA67?” he reads, skeptically, leaning into Dean’s personal space probably too far (or not far enough, if Dean’s being honest with himself) in order to read off his own fake sidearm.  He raises an eyebrow at Dean, looking unimpressed.

Dean’s torn between objecting angrily and grinning evilly. “You here to start a fight buddy?”

“I was under the impression we’re here to ‘strengthen inter-departmental relations’,” he says vaguely, before fixing Dean with a piercing blue glare and dropping his voice to a tone which is not fair-play at all.  “But I will gladly accept your offer of combat.”

“That’s—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish the thought, as the door into the large labyrinth that will serve as their playing field opens, and a voice begins to countdown from thirty, prompting everyone else to charge out of the small room and go seek out good hiding spots.  Cas shoots one last challenging grin his way—as well as a wink, maybe, but it’s probably just be his imagination—before taking off into the maze as well.

“—not.” Dean blinks, then pulls himself together.  He unholsters his laser gun and tries to channel some Han Solo vibes.  If this guy wants a duel, he’ll get it.  “Alright. Have it your way.”

Castiel has already taken a sharp turn somewhere, so Dean figures the best way to nail him will be front a sniper position.  After very nearly knocking over some nerdy guy he vaguely recognizes from HR (Dean thinks his name might be Cole or something), he quickly finds an ramp and rushes up it, around some corners, and finally finds a reasonably defensible corner to set up in, at least to start.  Charlie is nowhere in sight, but knowing her she’s probably found an even better vantage point than his own.  A quick survey of the few folks still scurrying around on the ground floor doesn’t reveal Cas to be among them. But then Dean realizes that save the flashing lights on his vest (which are identical to everyone else’s), his challenger probably won’t be very visible with his dark hair and dark clothes.  He glances down at his white t-shirt with a stormtrooper helmet design on the front, glowing violet under the dark lights, and realizes this puts him at a disadvantage.

Lucky for him, he and Sam spent way too much time at places like this when they were kids.  The visual hindrance will just make it all the more fun, and all the more satisfying when he sees his codename leagues above Castiel’s on the final scoreboard.

“... three, two, one, GO,” the electronic voice announces.

Every laser gun in the room makes a bright beeping sound, and now it’s game on.

Dean spots a few blinking target-indicating lights poorly concealed behind a wall splattered with glow-in-the-dark paint, quickly points his laser in that direction, and pulls the trigger.  The laser makes a far-too-satisfying cheesy blaster noise, but the better part is that the screen on the back of his gun lights up with the codenames of his coworkers he just shot.  “Yahtzee,” Dean whispers to himself, figuring he now has a way to find Cas among all the others, since he can just—

Dean’s own vest suddenly makes an angry beeping sound and the gun vibrates in his hand, signaling he’s been hit.   _HIT BY HERMY-G,_ the screen reads, and from the other end of the room he hears a “Take that, Winchester!”

Shaking his head, Dean waits until his laser reactivates, and then quickly fires off a few shots in the direction of her voice, hitting someone, but not her.  Oh well.  He’s got priorities.

A few people run by on the ground floor, Dean zapping each of them in turn, keeping an eye on his display screen for the name CASTIEL, but to no avail.  He keeps at it, ringing up his points if nothing else, until suddenly his vest makes that indignant chirping noise and shuts down momentarily.  He’s been keeping out of sight after that first slip up though …  Frowning, Dean glances at his screen.

_HIT BY CASTIEL_

Son of a bitch.

Dean spins around, searching for where some newbie from graphic design possibly got him in his sights, only to see flashing lights decorating a dark figure on the other side of the platform he’s on.  The only part of him glowing are his teeth, grinning at him triumphantly, before he realizes he’s been spotted and darts off around the corner, shouting, “Nice t-shirt!”

Dean blushes under the UV’s and looks down at his shirt in embarrassment. _It was a collectible_ , he very nearly says before leaving the safety of his sniper’s nest and charging after Castiel.  It’s annoying that he has to keep up with him for the full fifteen seconds until his laser activates again, but Dean will not let him get away so easily.

Eventually his gun stops vibrating and Dean quickly dives into cover, only to take a shot right at the target on Cas’ laser a few feet ahead.  An easy enough shot, but it feels oh-so-good, mostly because now he knows the game is _really_ on.

They both keep at each other from that point on, running and dodging and shooting and name-calling and probably all sorts of things they were told not to do in the ready room when Dean hadn’t been listening.  Any time Dean gets shot, he uses the time to run ahead and find better cover to take his next shot from, keeping a sharp eye on the messy-haired figure that is Castiel at all times.  The thing is, these lasers aren’t very accurate, but for all that Dean teased him before, it turns out Cas is … appallingly good at this, since Dean’s laser goes into standby over and over and over again.  All the same, he gets in a lot of good shots, too.  Trick shots, even.  Beat that, argyle sweater.

He’s probably way too into this right now but it’s too much fun for him to care.  He knows the layout better now, enough to be able to sneak around a wall and come up right behind Cas in order to blast him in the shoulder, cackling when Cas’ vest plays the deactivating tone.  Cas dives around another corner and Dean follows him, ready to line up his next shot.

When he rounds the corner where he expects Cas to be however, there’s no one there.  He clutches his laser gun a little tighter, keeping his eyes peeled for any sudden movement near any of the numerous paint-splattered walls providing cover.  

Only a few seconds in, there’s the sound of footsteps to his left, and Dean takes cover for a moment, getting ready to jump.  The footsteps seem to be heading away, so Dean gets ready to attack, leaping around the corner—and straight into Castiel.

And then onto the floor.

“Ow, fuck!” Dean says, landing firmly on top of Castiel, his laser gun firing off into the distance from the jolt. Castiel’s body is firm beneath him, albeit a little uncomfortable to lie on in places due to the vest, and he is groaning in pain even louder than Dean.

“Ow? That hurt _you?_  You slammed my head into the ground!”

Dean drops his laser and sits up a bit, taking some of his weight off Cas. He fits his hands on either side of the man’s face, pressing his fingers softly into the back of the man’s head. “Are you okay?”

Cas slaps him in the shoulder, squinting up at him. “No. You hurt me. You aren’t supposed to hurt people, that was rule number one.”

“Coulda’ sworn rule number one was have fun.” Dean jokes to an unresponsive audience. Cas fixes him with a glare that could rival even Sam’s worst bitch faces. “You’re right… I’m sorry.”

“Just get off me.”

“Okay, okay I’m-”

“Your time is up,” the robotic voice says over the intercom as the room brightens slightly.  “Please follow the lights on the ground to the exit.”

Dean looks up at the ceiling as the voice speaks, then back down at Cas, who is … still staring at him.  With those eyes that—apparently the UVs were not exaggerating—are ridiculously blue, and really gorgeous, and fixing him with a look Dean can’t decipher, only it’s not as angry as before.

Cas clears his throat. “Um, if you wouldn’t mind …”

Dean blinks.  “What? Oh.”  Their legs are tangled together awkwardly, and Dean is still on top of Cas, and he probably could have moved at least thirty seconds ago.  His cheeks heat up as he disentangles both himself and the cords keeping their laser guns attached to their vests, standing up and holding out a hand to pull Cas to his feet too. Cas grips the offered hand tightly, using Dean as a foundation to haul himself off the ground.

Dean’s about to open his mouth again when Charlie bounces up to him.

“Hey losers.” Charlie points her laser at his chest and makes pew pew noises. “You guys have fun?”

Dean rolls his eyes and lays a hand on the top of her gun, pushing it downwards. “Point that thing somewhere else, kiddo. And hell yes I had fun.” Charlie offers him her first to bump which he gladly takes her up on.

“I found this game enjoyable. Though rather short,” Castiel says to Charlie before training his intense stare back to Dean. “I could’ve done with even a couple more seconds. Wouldn’t you agree, IMPALA67?”

Dean laughs, the tension from earlier seeping away a little when he realizes this guy doesn’t even know his name. “It’s uh… it’s Dean,” he says, holding out his hand which Castiel takes amicably.

“Castiel.”

“Yeah, caught that.”

The three walk out of the arena together, stopping in the ready room to hand back their vests and guns.

“The place could do with some air conditioning, however,” Cas says, sighing as they get back to the lobby.

Charlie grins at him. “Yeah, blasting bad guys for fifteen minutes straight sure takes it out of you.”

“Indeed,” Cas agrees.

As Charlie turns to go speak to someone else who just exited the ready room, Cas grabs the bottom of his nerdy sweater and pulls it up over his head, leaving only a white dress shirt underneath.  The movement of his arms pulls the shirt up slightly, giving Dean a peak at tan skin and sharp hipbones and _okay_. What the hell is he supposed to do with that.  Dean swallows, trying to keep his face from heating up again.

He eventually remembers to raise his eyes, only to find Cas is staring at him with an eyebrow raised. Shit.

“Well, you were right, Dean,” he sighs, tossing his sweater over one shoulder and holding it with a finger. “ That wasn’t too complicated at all.”

“How about we wait for the scores before jumping to any conclusions,” Dean scoffs, his eyes raking over Cas’ relaxed posture.

“Good idea. Speculating is pointless when we will soon have statistical evidence of my superiority,” Cas says with a sly smile.

“Oh ho ho.” Dean chortles at Castiel’s confidence. This guy is unreal. “Your ‘superiority’ huh?”

“Well I don’t mean to alarm you, but your laser shutting down means you’ve gotten shot.  And I was responsible for most of those shots.”

“Yeah, but that’s just plain old point and shoot.” Dean says, crossing his arms. “Anyone can do that.  Only the pros can pull off trick shots around corners and through mirrors like me.”

“Trick shots … are you referring to the numerous times you tried to shoot me, only to fumble and hit the wall?” Cas’ mouth quirks up in the corners, taunting Dean.

“Bonus points for style, Cas!” Dean grins, not taking the bait. “Come on man, everybody knows that.”

Cas squints up at him, moving a step closer. “I’m fairly certain that’s not how they allot points.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

Turns out they don’t have to wait that long. Nate, or whatever the hell his name was, comes out of a door labeled “Employees Only,” and the TV screen behind him turns on.  Dean and Cas exchange sly look, and gather around along with everyone else from their round of tag.

“Alright, soldiers, the final scores are in,” Nate says, and Dean wonders absently if it’s possible for him to sound more lame than he does.  “And the winner is …”

The scoreboard screen lights up with the letters _HERMY-G_.  Dean’s shoulders fall slightly in defeat, but he supposes he’s not that surprised.  Charlie whoops and goes up to claim her prize, her co-workers applauding her respectfully.  Dean claps a little more loudly, because she’s his friend, and throws in a cheer of her name for good measure.  Cas side-eyes him and raises an eyebrow.

Dean shrugs. “Yeah, well, tough to beat that girl at her own game.  I’ll settle for second, though …”

The rest of the names then appear on the scoreboard. Dean’s codename is disappointingly not in second place.  Or third.  Or … he keeps reading down the list until his eyes fall upon the words IMPALA67, far lower than it should be.

Cas smirks at him.  “Seventh is very admirable to some, I’m sure.”

Dean casts his eyes down and shuffles around a bit uncomfortably.  “Yeah, well, I could feel that my gun wasn’t going off as often as it should anyway,” he mutters.

“I’m sure,” Cas agrees sarcastically, his smug grin too much to look at.

Cas’ euphoria at Dean’s placement doesn’t last very long as within seconds, he spots his own name just above it, in only the sixth place spot.

“What?” Cas exclaims in disbelief.  Dean looks up at him.  “There has to be a calculation error.”

Dean doesn’t know what’s funnier. The look on Cas’ face currently, or the fact that they both spent so much time only going after each other, they didn’t forgot about the ten other players in the arena. Either way, he does not deserve the scowl Cas is throwing his way for laughing as hard as he is.

“Look at your _face_ , oh my god,” Dean wheezes, bent over with laughter. “Ohh man, this was a great day.”

The frown drops off Cass face, replaced quickly by a tentative smile, the most genuine one Dean’s seen yet. “We could do this again sometime? Or… something else?”

Dean returns the grin. “You askin’ me out?”

“Well I thought, since you lost, perhaps you could buy me dinner,” says Cas.

Dean opens his mouth to retort, but instead of offering a witty come back, all his brain can come up with is, “I guess there are worse consolation prizes.”

“Mmm. Though generally, they give consolation prizes only to second place …” Cas says

“Do you want dinner or not?” Dean asks, rolling his eyes fondly.

Cas fixes him with a glorious smile.

“Dinner would be lovely.”


End file.
